


Nightmares

by Luciferstempest



Series: Far cry 5 one shots [2]
Category: Far Cry 5
Genre: Angst, F/M, Nightmares, Post-Traumatic Stress Disorder - PTSD, Pretty vanilla stuff though, Violence, non descriptive though
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2021-03-08
Updated: 2021-03-08
Packaged: 2021-03-14 03:02:58
Rating: Mature
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 2,631
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/29910471
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/Luciferstempest/pseuds/Luciferstempest
Summary: Jacob gets nightmares, it's a bit angsty
Relationships: Jacob Seed/Reader
Series: Far cry 5 one shots [2]
Series URL: https://archiveofourown.org/series/2199366
Kudos: 3





	Nightmares

**Author's Note:**

> Needs more angst

Love is patient love is kind, love forces you to endure, to care. It forces you in places you never thought you'd be dragged to. Puts you into the corner and begs you to react. It drags you under and holds you there and somehow being under the influence together makes it okay.

No one ever said love was easy, no one ever said joining Eden's gate was an easy endeavor and no one would even dare say Jacob was an easy man to get along with but yet here we stand where these three points collide.

Next to Jacob tangled between the sheets, back turned to a man you'd give your life for, and yet you couldn't help but wonder if you were what he needed.

Night after night you wondered as you expected his body to shake. Night after night you waited for his past to come rushing back. Night after night you waited afraid of what was to come.

Was it better to have him wake up upset at you but you'd get some version of sleep after the episode or was it better when he could get a night's sleep? Admittedly it was a selfish thought but still, you wondered whether the images helped him work through the thoughts he had or it was that he was haunted by something that would not let him rest.

You'd come to learn the names by now as he cried out in his sleep, knew bits of the situation as you pieced together the puzzle he unwillingly revealed in his episodes. He would never reveal the picture himself which is what brought on the feelings of unworthiness and insecurity. He would never trust you as you had grown to trust him.

You felt him shift behind you and closed your eyes momentarily, waiting and anxious. Afraid to look back but did so anyway after a moment.

His chest rose rapidly as his breathing came and went. His eyes were clenched and caused a furrow to form on his forehead from the strain. His hands clenched and you waited.  
Mistakingly you thought maybe this time it won't be as bad, maybe this time he'd bring himself out so you didn't have to. Maybe this time it will be different.

You pulled yourself to a half-sitting position as your hand hovered over his shoulder, remembering a time where he had dislocated your shoulder when he fought back with an evil that wasn't physically there. You, a paper cut out of a silhouette he saw in the haze.

His head jerked with whispers falling from his lips, names and demands you had heard before and you imagine it was from his time in Iraq. He'd never shared too much from his time in the army but you had a general idea of what he did there and even with the way Hope county had turned out, the stories he did share were way beyond anyone should bear.

"Jacob." You whispered, fingers hovering over him, afraid to make contact.

His body responded with a jerk of his head at the sound of his name but didn't bring him back, seeming to only make it worse. Your fingers curled around his bicep gently as you shook him, calling his name, pleading as your heart started to pound loudly in your chest.

His body was covered in a layer of sweat, hair sticking to his forehead. His eyes shot open but remained unfocused, dilated. His hand shot out to grab at your arm, the skin soft and fragile under his fingertips. His grip was tight and it hurt a bit but you didn't move, only hoped what was to come wasn't worse, that it would be over soon.

He blinked and after a few moments his eyes started to focus, eyes looking around frantically until it stopped on you and then his hold on you. You could imagine the fear he must've seen in your eyes as you looked back at him expectantly with nothing to protect you from him if he decided to act out his nightmares again. Just staring at him like a deer caught in the headlights of a truck, unmoving spare for the flinch that bent your body to curl into the grip he held.

His grip left you and he searched for something to say, to make what he put you through okay but just like every time he couldn't find a single thing that would lessen the burden he put on you and he stayed silent, falling back onto the bed with a sigh.

The silence was uncomfortable, suffocating you, and as you looked at his body slowly returning from the hell which it experienced your eyes started to water but not quite forming a tear. Why couldn't you help him, why wouldn't he let you help him. He always needed to be strong for everyone and you were sick of it. Sick of the demands, the responsibility. Sick of no one seeing what it did to him.

You could see him shaking, eyes unfocused as he looked to the ceiling. In the beginning, you'd ask him what he saw but he'd get upset and eventually you stopped, pretend like you didn't see what you saw, didn't hear him crying out. like nothing even happened.

Tonight hadn't been that bad, admittedly. He didn't lash out, didn't cry out, didn't thrash. You weren't in any real danger tonight which made it uneventful but still weighing heavy on your heart.

You didn't know how much more you could take. How long you could endure. Who were you kidding, you weren't made for this, weren't strong enough. Someone else could help him through, could be there for him. He needed someone better than you.

You turned and sat on the edge of the bed, feet dangling down as you looked into the dark room. It was a quiet night but the moon shone brightly and you wanted to slip to the floor and let the feelings spill on the floor.

He didn't need you, it's you who needed him. He needed someone stronger, someone able to bring him back without the whiplash. Someone who understood.  
You were pulled from your thoughts when you felt his fingers curl around your wrist.

When you looked back at the owner, he seemed questioning, almost pleading with a question he couldn't voice. He was still shaking slightly and shone with the perspiration shining under the moonlight that flowed into the room.

All you wanted to do was hold him and tell him it's okay but when were you allowed to touch him, when does it reel him back into his fears. You didn't have the answer even after all this time. You were still in the dark.

You crawled back to him, cautiously watching his reactions as you moved closer and curling into his side. He didn't say a word when his arm fell over your small figure pressed into him. One would guess you're the one who had the episode with the way you cling to him.

"I'm sorry." He whispered, almost too soft to hear if the night hadn't been especially quiet tonight. " I didn't mean to hurt you."

You glanced up at his face and he wasn't looking at you, eyes trained upwards as he swallowed hard.

"It's not your fault." You stated and you really did believe he would never hurt you otherwise. Your hand drew small circles on his chest as you settled back into your spot.

"But it is." He stated and you opened your mouth to deny him the words but he cut you off. "My actions. "

You shook your head as you pulled yourself to hover over him slightly. "You didn't mean to, it's... not you."

He didn't answer and you saw the clench of a jaw that said he didn't agree with you but wouldn't argue right now and you laid back down. Talking things out wasn't exactly a staple in the relationship.

After a few moments of complete silence, only listening to his breathing as you felt it beneath your fingertips he spoke which had startled you slightly with the sudden noise.  
"It's my fault, all of it."

His voice cracked under the weight of the confession and you glanced up at him. He couldn't honestly believe that, he wasn't aware and he hadn't even hurt you as bad tonight. If you're lucky it might not even make a bruise and then his next words hit you and you knew it wasn't you, it was the moment that defined him.

"I wasn't strong enough, I couldn't-"

Your heart beat. You could feel it, wondered if he could feel it as well. He never spoke about his time, no details, he never opened up about his time in the 82nd airborne division. It was uncharted territory and even with your curiosity, you were scared.

There had to be a reason he never spoke about it, had to be something he was ashamed to admit.

"So much sound, and I couldn't see it."

You looked up at him and saw him glance down, reevaluating whether he could trust you with the information. You didn't even feel worthy to have it.

He sighed as his body shifted slightly, a single tear treading down his cheek and you reached out, thumb smoothing over his cheek. His eyes closed momentarily at the contact.  
"I keep seeing them, (Y/n).” Jacob choked. "I keep losing them. Over and over."

"Who?" You asked softly afraid he'd get upset with the wrong question.

"Doesn't matter," Jacob responded shaking his head. "It's in the past." He pulled away as he sat up, feet planted firmly on the ground as his hands rubbed over his face in an effort to dispel the feelings that the dreams awoke.

"It matters to me." You muttered under your breath as you took a seating position as well, pulling your knees to your chest. You see him glance your way at the words from the corner of your eye but whether it be from the movement or the words you can't confirm.

He sighed audibly as he placed his hands on his knees. "It's not something you need to concern yourself with." He stated.

"It does concern me." You said softly, hugging your knees closer to your chest. "If it not be for the fear of what might happen every night, we're supposed to be in this together but you.. you don't trust me. "

You saw his head whip around but kept your eyes trained forward as they began to water.

"I do trust you." He stated as if it was evident. "I let you into my bed, into this life, into this project."

"But not into your past." You sighed as you wiped the forming tears on your sleeve.

"(Y/n)." He sighed, turning his body so he'd more easily have access to you. "It's.." he shook his head, hand rubbing over his tired face as he searched for the words. "It's too much."

"I thought that eventually you'd come to trust me and tell me what goes on in your head but I don't think you ever will. I thought if I was considerate and empathetic you'd come around. Is this all we're ever going to be?"

A tear rolled down your cheek as you looked at him, vulnerable and at a fork in the road, you let it fall unobstructed.

"I-" his jaw clenched as he searched for the words. He hated seeing you like this, hated being the reason, hate not being able to just let it out like it wasn't suffocating him every day. The day he met you he would never have guessed you'd be sharing a bed, never would have imagined the trust he had in you, and yet here you were not realizing just how much he trusted you, needed you. He was deathly afraid of losing you, whether it be by your choice or the resistance it would have the same outcome. Going back to how it was before, alone and scared.

You had become something he feared losing, a dent in his armor that made him weak at the knees, and even with this knowledge he still would do anything to keep you with him.

"I didn't want you to know what I had done." He spoke softly, barely audible as he looked down at his hands. "you know what happened to Miller, I saw the look in your eyes when you found out. You tell yourself I had no choice." His voice cracked and he took a breath to bury the feeling creeping upon him. "Will you still look at me the same when I have a choice and made the wrong one?"

You looked at him as you processed the words but what he doesn't realize is that you didn't really care about the actions of his past self, the shocked look you had when he finally told you about Miller was more what effects it had on him more than about a man you had never known.

"Nothing can change how I feel about you, Jacob." You said softly after a moment, crawling across the bed to favor sitting next to him. "We all made mistakes, I just want you to trust me enough to let me in." You took his hand in your own and smiled softly. "I love you, nothing's going to change that."

He smiled back weakly, placing a stray hair behind your ear, and cupped your cheek for a moment before speaking.

"I made a choice." He stated. "I made it too late and it led to people losing their lives." He took a breath as he pondered the words in his mind. "War is chaos like you can't imagine but the thing that's infinitely worse than being the reason they're dead is having to leave their bodies where they fell. Their families had to bury empty caskets because I was unsure."

Tears had begun falling down his cheek and he didn't make a move to stop them. He trusted you would pretend it never happened like you pretended he didn't have nightmares, like you pretended you were scared every night that he would accidentally hurt you.

"I see their faces, the blood. I see everything again and again. I don't know how to make it stop."

Your heart broke for him, the strongest man you knew. He was always decisive, ready for action but here he was saying he didn't know which way to turn, and neither did you.  
You wrapped your arms around him and pulled him closer as you embraced him. No words you could speak would make it better for him, all you could do was show him he's not alone, that you wouldn't leave at the words, that you're still by his side.

His hands in turn wrapped around your own smaller figure and held you there, head buried into your shoulder as he shook slightly.

He's never trusted anyone with the information, always buried it deep within him until it spilled out on nights he was unguarded. He always imagined you'd run with the fraction of the knowledge for how could anyone love someone after what he had done. He was the cause of so much pain and he always thought he'd be the cause of yours and still feared it. You didn't know everything but perhaps you were strong enough to lead up to it.

You couldn't give him what he needed, couldn't take it away but just maybe the secrets that now flowed between both could lessen the effects, perhaps it could tame the monster. Maybe he just needed to give a voice to the terror.


End file.
